Awakening
by a2agenesgirl
Summary: Set after Shock Treatment and ROTOQ -later chapters- The RHPS and aftermath from Janet's POV, focusing on her feelings towards Frank N Furter. Please R&R
1. First Impressions

_**Hey everyone! This is my 8**__**th**__** fanfic but my first for rocky horror one. I wanted to do something a little different from anything I'd done before and to other RH fanfics, so I came up with this. Please R&R, all feedback is welcome and I'll reply to all reviews I receive. I update as I write so updates will come as soon as possible. Thanks in advance! Emily xxx**_

Entering the main hall and watching the guests "folk-dance", as Brad called it, I knew that I would remember that night for a long time. Even then, I remember thinking they were looked like something from another world… another planet. Brad had held me close to comfort me and dispel my fear. But I was not scared of the, I know that now. I was scared of the feeling building inside me: the excitement, bewilderment and… anticipation. Frank N Furter had seen that feeling in me when Brad had not.

When he had flounced out of that elevator I admit that his appearance had startled me but part of me knew I could not leave while there was clearly a world I needed to explore. A world of pleasure and sensuality, of disregarding your inhibitions and simply having fun that was begging to be uncovered; a world where no-one was held by back by their beliefs, looks, lifestyle or even gender. Although I was what the locals of Denton would call "pure", when I looked at Frank and how happy he was, it enticed me and, although at first I felt ashamed, I now know that Frank was about to show me how good life could be by giving yourself over to absolute pleasure.

When Frank removed that cape and revealed himself, I didn't know where to look. At first, I looked at anything but his body, but I couldn't help but inspect it. I wanted to know that feeling, desperately, of being completely comfortable with your body and being proud of it. I wanted to know how everyone around him could be so at ease while he paraded himself around in such a way.

I would be lying if I said I did not notice his figure. Especially his legs… Yes, I felt guilty for even thinking those thoughts with Brad stood right next to me, because I loved him. I still do, but that evening changed the way I looked at the world and everyone in it. There was laughter in Frank's eyes as he sang, and when he looked at me I was sure that he could see my interest. I tried to avoid his gaze again and looked at those surrounding him: they looked at him in awe and seemed to feel the same as I did. I quickly realized that Frank commanded respect, oozed authority and exuded confidence and I think that that was part of the attraction.

As Frank disappeared to his lab, I turned to Brad. I willed him to take control and make me leave as I feared that my desire to stay was unhealthy to say the least. Unfortunately, this inner turmoil was only set to continue and grow as the night went on. Brad was obviously unnerved and unsure of how to behave and so just went along with everyone else: he likes to think that he can protect me but I know how frightened he gets. As we were both undressed, I willed him to say something but, again, I was disappointed. It was like he had frozen under the pressure.

We were bundled into the lift and, however much I tried, I could not help feeling exposed and vulnerable. How did Frank walk around in… that… with such… grandeur? I looked at Brad and smiled which he returned meekly, but I had expected more from someone who I was planning on marrying. He looked at me like he always did, despite the distinct lack of clothing, and I felt rejected. But then, Frank did notice… again doing something that Brad had not. When Frank took my hand and kissed it, I felt electricity pass between us: he was playful and flirtatious, and took an interest in me when we talked. I saw his manner with Brad and, although he was playful with him also, he quickly turned his attention back to me.

I glanced quickly back and forth between him and Brad, but Brad showed no signs of jealousy. I thought that my giggles would at least force Brad to interject, but there was nothing. I had always thought that Brad was everything I could ever want or need, but it's difficult for anyone to compete with Frank. He was so… exotic.

And then, Brad lost it. Frank was right; Brad could be dominant and forceful, but not in the exciting way Frank was. My mood was lifted slightly by his attempt to take control and get us out of there, but not enough for me to be drawn away from Frank. His attempt had failed and Frank had just brushed it off, like Brad didn't matter: Frank was always in control.

The longer I stayed, the less I wanted to leave but the more Brad wanted to, and it worried me that so soon after our engagement the cracks were beginning to show in our relationship. However, it was about to get a whole lot worse…


	2. The Unveiling

_**Hey everyone! Thanks for all the lovely feedback for chapter 1, especially those of you who have favourited etc. All reviews have been great so far and I'm really glad you enjoyed the first chapter. I apologise that this chapter is rather short, but I thought it was best to end where I have – and I hope some of you can work out why! Please continue to R&R, let me know what you think of this chapter! x**_

I watched in awe as Frank took to the stage and addressed the "unconventional conventionalists". He seemed to be a marvelous host which I attributed, again, to his limitless confidence. But here I saw another side to Frank: his passion. When he talked about his experiment, still unbeknownst to us exactly what or who it was, the pride and excitement he had felt brightened the already present spark in his eyes.

As the red sheet billowed and was lifted by Magenta and Columbia, Brad protectively pulled me closer to him and we both were rendered speechless by the mummy-like figure in the tank that was revealed. As the lights flashed and the machinery started to splutter into life by Riff Raff's hand, I saw glee dancing in Frank's eyes. The shadows cast about his pale, powdered, grinning features made him look crazed and maniacal and I was glad to feel Brad holding me. I spent so much time fixated on Frank that I had almost not realized that the mummy was beginning to move.

I am ashamed to admit that when I saw how Frank looked at Rocky, I felt like I had been replaced. It was ridiculous, I know: Frank had given me the slightest bit of attention, I had felt a spark, and suddenly he wasn't allowed to look at anyone else… even though I was still in the arms of my fiancé.

I had never seen anyone react to something in such a way as Frank reacted to Rocky. I could see the attraction to Rocky: blonde, tanned, muscles… but I didn't feel anything towards him and, although the others were impressed by Frank's handiwork, no-one looked at him in that way. But Frank… he just seemed overwhelmed by what can only be described as lust in the most shameless form. I have to assume that Frank decided not to listen to the words Rocky sang, or that he felt that his desires could overcome Rocky's melancholy.

In fact, looking back to the events of that night, Rocky began his life in fear of Frank, his creator, and the world he was brought into. Frank had given him seemingly little intelligence at first, yet he was able to consider his existence in such a delving way for someone who had technically just been born. And, in retrospect, his fear of Frank showed that he was the best judge of character out of everyone present.

Great pleasure was also taken from Frank asking my opinion of his creation, as it showed that he wasn't going to forget about mine and Brad's presence. Columbia's lack of praise had obviously angered him and he looked to me, a newcomer, for appraisal. In all honesty, I panicked. If I had lied and professed an attraction to Rocky, then it was a real possibility that Frank could see me as competition, not to mention the repercussions it would have had for Brad and I. If I had said that Rocky was completely unattractive, it would definitely cause Frank to scorn me. I settled for what I had thought was a middle-ground, but instead I had angered Frank anyway. Perhaps I should have just praised Frank's scientific ability….

As Frank led Rocky away, it was a sign to everyone that Rocky was his, and only his. I naively thought that this also meant he solely belonged to Rocky, but I was to learn soon that I was way off the mark. I was surprised, however, at the love and adoration which Frank showered Rocky with. I especially thought the birthday presents were a pleasant touch. Well... were they? So many things that night, on closer inspection, have a completely different meaning. Frank was indeed going to benefit from giving Rocky gym equipment… and Frank seemed to be singing about his own successes rather than what Rocky could achieve. And the lustful gazes soon returned… however, the way Frank interacted with his creation was playful and tender, at this moment in time at least.


	3. The Mask Slips

_**Hey everyone, here's the next update. Sorry it is still a bit on the short side but I'm really pleased at the way this chapter turned out, so hopefully you'll like it! Thanks for all the reviews, please keep them coming. x**_

I watched intently as I was sure Frank and Rocky were about to share their first kiss. I watched as Frank slipped his arms around Rocky's neck and looked into his eyes with adoration. But as they leaned, a light behind them started to flash next to what looked like a large, reinforced safe. And then, as the door fell to the floor, I heard the soft rumble of a bike engine which was too loud to be coming from the many motorcycles we had seen outside.

Columbia's sudden excitement introduced the man inside to be Eddie. As the ice broke and the motorbike crashed through, she ran to his side like a lovesick puppy, as Frank looked on in distaste. The look in Frank's eyes was hard to read, but I was pretty sure Eddie wouldn't be the centre of attention for much longer if he had anything to do with it. As Eddie sang, I felt the atmosphere in the lab lift into a happier place: he seemed fun and lovable in the way he moved.

As Eddie and Columbia became frenzied in each other's presence, I began to wonder why Eddie had been locked away and, judging by Columbia's uncontrollable embrace of Eddie, been in there for so long. Brad and I seemed to be the only ones confused by Eddie's sudden entrance; even Frank had resigned himself to the fact that Eddie was having his moment in the spotlight.

But then Rocky started to dance. Well, attempted to. I thought it was quite cute, the way he tried so hard to move to Eddie's music, but Frank did not approve. His face almost swelled with rage and jealousy: Eddie had not only stolen Rocky's spotlight, but had taken Rocky's attention away from him. Eddie was competition. Frank locked Rocky in the lift, which obviously panicked his creation as he began to rattle the bars on his temporary cage and became tearful.

Until this point, only Brad, myself, Riff Raff and Magenta had noticed Frank's rage. Eddie and Columbia were still dancing gleefully, unaware that Frank had snapped. Frank's deadly, crazed stare made me feel uncomfortable to say the least – his mood swings and violent temper were to be revealed to their full extent to us in the near future.

As Frank chased Eddie with the pickaxe, Brad pulled me into his chest to shield my eyes. I heard Columbia's screams, Eddie's yells for mercy and, eventually, the sound of metal piercing ice, then flesh. Eddie had been silenced once and for all. I turned to see Frank stagger out of the vault over broken pieces of the wall Eddie had broke out of and drop his weapon. His mannerisms, for a split second, turned into that of the man he truly was: his posture slumped and he wiped his brow. The mask had slipped. The blood dripped from his marigolds as he regained composure and with a camp flick of the arms, he gestured Magenta to remove the gloves.

The silence, almost deafening, capsulated the moment to give the impression of time standing still while it was committed to memory of the unwilling, unwitting witnesses until Rocky's incessant rattling brought Frank back to reality. Well, when I say reality….

Frank freed Rocky, but was obviously taken aback by his coldness. I still maintain that Eddie's murder would have been nothing to Frank had it not been for Rocky's disgust – the morality of the creature was stunning for one so young, especially with Frank as his creator. However, Rocky's mind was quickly changed as the murder was justified by the perpetrator and, with one flex of his muscle, Rocky reminded Frank of his urges. With a yell of ultimate pleasure from Frank, the song continued with the same gusto as before, as if nothing had interrupted it.

My consternation soon abated, inexplicably. Not one moment ago, I was confronted with a killer and feared for my own life while remaining in the manor. And, now? I'm singing along with Frank and watching him march to the bedroom with his creation. My attraction to him had diminished to say the least due to recent events, but I couldn't understand why my heart still fluttered as I watched him walk away.

The curtains closed and the guests and I were left wanting. I felt embarrassed at our collective proximity to their bedroom, knowing that behind the cloth that Frank was undressing with Rocky. Somehow his temperament had increased my excitement for him much more than my reservations. Frank and his manor, it then became clear to me, changed people. I was yet to learn, however, to what extent this was true.


	4. Betrayal

_**Hey everyone! Firstly I would like to apologise: I just realized how many typos and grammatical mistakes were in the last chapter, especially in the last paragraph! Secondly, thanks for the reviews and for sticking with this fanfic. Please, please, PLEASE review when you read so I can see what I'm doing wrong, or right. I've only had 3 reviews so far despite having 219 hits! Anyway, hope you enjoy. x**_

I lay in the unfamiliar room, on the unfamiliar bed, with an unfamiliar feeling which rendered me unable to sleep. The house was cold and gave me goosebumps but I had broken into a sweat thinking about the events of the day. My head still swam with my conflicting thoughts and feelings, with images of Brad and Frank, and poor Rocky... and that's when he entered.

I took the figure into my bed and felt him caress me. Brad and I had only ever kissed before, but as his lips moved down to my neck and chest, the feelings of pleasure did not allow me to protest. I stroked the back of his head, the only way I could think of to show my affection and approval of what he was doing. I gripped his hair hard as I whimpered his name, but it did not straighten, and to my horror, I pulled off his wig and saw that it was Frank leering over me, not Brad.

I jolted upright and pushed him away in protest: I felt violated, betrayed and ashamed… yet the closeness of our bodies gave way to a spark of electricity and excitement in me. As I told Frank that I was, you know… a virgin, he nodded and listened to me. He understood my reservations it seemed, but that seemed to spur him on further, knowing that I would not be able to resist him. I think he also realized that I was trying to reason with myself than I was with him: in hindsight, I worry that even if I had said 'no' then he still would have continued.

Each time he kissed me, he diminished my ability to think logically: I had always thought with my head and not my heart but, in this case, lust had been thrown into the mix to weaken my cognitive defences. Since the moment I had laid eyes on Frank, I had wanted him to take me and kiss me and, deep down, for us to end up in this situation. The fact that he was so confident and dominant has attracted to me, and the fact he had forced me into this situation made me want him even more. I gave in and gave myself to him.

Although I know that I was just another conquest to Frank, I know that he understood, at least partly, what it would mean to me in the respect it was my first time. He was gentle yet forceful, giving yet demanding. There were moments where we laughed and giggled together and there were moments of great intensity, with his eyes locked on mine. I still remember his smile every time my teeth slipped from my bottom lip and I let out an involuntary gasp of euphoria. I still remember the feeling of his lips grazing my neck as he grinned wildly. I still remember the way his hands would move roughly as the pace increased, and how they would run through my hair as we slowed down.

I lay in his arms afterwards, exhausted and satisfied, waiting to see how long he would stay with me. To my surprise and delight, he watched me until my eyes began to flutter, struggling to remain open. As they closed for the last time, he kissed me gently on the forehead as a silent goodnight, cruelly leading me to assume that the feelings I had for him were reciprocated.

It is easy, looking back over events in your life, to say what you would, could or should have done differently, but there in the moment, I was happy. Yes, it was a selfish act, but it meant more to me than Frank could or would ever know. Even I didn't realize it then, but that selfish act changed me into who I am today: a confident, worldly-wise, real woman. Do I regret it? Of course I feel guilty for betraying Brad in such a way, but in the end it proved that Brad and I had much more in common than we realized.

I awoke after what could have only been after a few hours. I momentarily forgot the events of last night, but blurred images of our escapade soon come back to me. At first, it felt like it had all been a dream, but as my eyes became more focused, so did my surroundings and the memories of the night before did too. As I tried to get out of the bed, I noticed that my whole body was aching and every part of my body which Frank had explored seemed to burn.

My smile dropped suddenly as I thought of Brad, and I began to sob. I felt dirty and damaged, fragile to the point that I felt that if anything touched me I would crumble. My head began to spin and I was overcome with nausea. The room was filled with Frank's scent and as I closed my eyes, I saw him on top of me and heard him laugh; only it sounded more sinister than it had last night.

I ran out of the room, and rested against the closed doors, trying to decide what I could do. I decided that the best thing to do would be to tell Brad what had happened and beg for his forgiveness; the guilt which had overwhelmed me had made me realize how much I loved him. My conscience had finally kicked in.


	5. The Morning After

_**Hey everyone! I know I haven't updated in a while, but I was waiting until I had at least one review before continuing! Thanks to those of you who are still reading, and who have reviewed. Hope you like this chapter and please read and review. If you don't review, I don't know what I'm doing wrong or doing right! x**_

I ran to the lab, not being able to find my way to Brad's room, hoping to wait for him there. I looked around and saw nobody, and began to cry again.

"If only we were amongst friends…"

"Oh, Brad, what have they done to you…"

I walked to the console and glanced over the impressive machinery: the sonic oscillator and what I later discovered to be a rather large magnet-like contraption and what was later known as the 'medusa' switch. I looked up the monitor and pulled the handle adjacent to it, curious to see what it did. The screen flashed and the image which appeared made me curse my curiosity.

It showed a bedroom, one similar to where I had stayed the night before, with Brad sitting on the edge of the bed and Frank lying comfortably in the bed. The smoke from a cigarette hazed around them, but I could see the guilt and anxiety in Brad's expression. I could also see Frank's sick grin. I had to turn away from the screen, but that image has been embossed in my head ever since and I have a feeling it will take years to fade.

In that moment, I initially felt numb; far too many emotions tried to surface that they cancelled each other out. But then it was as if they started to bubble, one emotion rising and then popping and being replaced by another.

First there was anger: at Brad's betrayal and Frank's disregard for her feelings.

That then led to guilt: how could she be angry with Brad when she had behaved in the same way? At least it wouldn't lead Brad to question her sexuality… I mean, we went to Church and knew that what he had done was… unnatural. But then again, my thoughts had hardly been pure.

Then came the fear: Frank had managed to wrap Brad and myself around his little finger (so to speak). We had both fallen under his spell, and it was clear that Frank had expected our services as soon as we arrived. What else would he expect? And what would Brad do when he found out he would not be marrying a virgin? Would he even still want to marry me?

One selfish action could have potentially ruined my life. I could have lost everything because I could not control myself. I vowed that it would never happen again and that I would belong to Brad willingly and faithfully until death parted us. We were even now. He had to forgive me, surely?

As I walked towards the tank from which Rocky had emerged the night before, I heard a noise, like someone whimpering. I pulled back the red cover and saw Rocky cowering, covered in dirt and the beginnings of heavy bruising all over his body. In hindsight, it was probably not the best idea to use the already sparse clothing I had on to dress his wounds, but my intentions, at that point, were completely innocent.

The minute Rocky reached for my hand, everything I had just promised myself was forgotten and the excitement that Frank's hands had brought me only a few hours earlier had returned with a vengeance. I needed to feel that kind of lust again. I wanted to see if it was any different to Frank, any better. I had said before that Rocky was not my type, but before I had only been thinking of someone to go on dates with, have a laugh with, not… this.

As I sang to Rocky, making my intentions clear, I had realized that Frank's attitude had worn off on me too. I felt liberated, confident and I wasn't afraid to go for what I wanted. And I now understood why Frank had placed sex at the centre of his lifestyle…

At first, Rocky had seemed reluctant, scared almost. I suppose it was understandable: perhaps he thought that he was only allowed to sleep with men. Perhaps he thought that he was only allowed to sleep with Frank which, in Frank's eyes, was probably true. But, eventually, Rocky touched me and became fascinated with my body. His eyes were wide with curiosity and eagerness, but, bless him, it was a bumbling mess. It had felt good, and it was fun, but it lacked Frank's dominance and… experience. Frank had set the benchmark pretty high and, to my shame, I thought, 'Brad will never live up to it.'

After Rocky and I had got our breath back, we started fooling around again. I heard Frank enter the lab with Riff Raff, and I froze and pushed Rocky's hand away. They were arguing, and I could hear what I rightly assumed was a whip hitting Riff Raff – it was unlikely that Frank would be dominated by anyone.

Rocky's hands began to roam my body once again, and I couldn't resist. He had learnt quickly what I liked him to do, and he was quickly improving. I stopped trying to listen to the conversation outside and concentrated on savouring the pleasure at hand, so much so that I did not hear Brad's voice outside the tank, or Dr Scott's entrance.

Rocky's hand grazed my thigh, sending a shiver through my body and I giggled. I had given myself away. I heard Frank's platform heels clicking on the floor as he moved towards us and, although I had frozen again, Rocky was oblivious and tried to continue. As the sheet was lifted, Frank looked down us, with hell fire in his eyes. I stood quickly, ashamed, and Rocky followed suit.

I realized then the extent of my betrayal. Not only had I betrayed Brad again, but I had betrayed Frank with his own creation. I admit that a small part of me was jealous that Frank did not seem to care that I had been with someone else and only that Rocky had crossed him. The shock in Brad's eyes could have killed me, but he was still stood there in that dressing gown, the one he had worn straight after sleeping with Rocky, and I reasoned with my self that it was a mark of the same betrayal on his part. And, as for Dr Scott's presence, I was beyond embarrassment.

It was all such a mess. It was more like a love polygon than a love triangle, and that was not including Frank's previous conquests which undoubtedly were many and most of the residents of the house. I was linked to 3 different men in this polygon: Brad, my fiancé and my love, Rocky, who I had a soft spot for but no real feelings, and Frank, who I had feelings for and lost my virginity to. They were confused feelings, but I knew they existed, despite all of his flaws. And they were many. And, at this point, I didn't know the half of it.

_**Hey, just a little side note. I just wanted to clarify that I am NOT homophobic. The comment that Janet makes in this chapter was just something I thought added to her characterization. It is Janet's way of justifying her own behavior against Brad, and I thought that Denton would be a very religious town and I imagine Brad and Janet being Christian. I really meant no offense to anyone. x **_


	6. Dinner And An Epiphany

_**Hey everyone, I'm so sorry for the long delay in updating. I really have no excuse, I just kept putting writing off. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it. Thanks for all of the support so far, please continue to R&R.**_

There was tension around the dinner table, to say the least. I had been pleased with where I had been seated: Brad was adjacent to me so that we did not have to make eye contact; Rocky was diagonally opposite me which was not so awkward; and Frank was next to me at the head of the table. I thought that somehow our proximity at the meal may have meant something, but now I realize how foolish I truly was.

However, the most interesting dynamic was between Frank and Dr Scott, as they were the only two present who had the confidence to even raise their heads. The drama of the past 24 hours was of trivial importance to Frank now Dr Scott had arrived: if I didn't know any better I'd have said Frank was a little threatened by him. It was obvious that they had had dealings with each other before, as Dr Scott had not seemed bothered by Frank's scantily clad appearance in the lab.

Those of us there who were hanging their heads in shame were roused by Frank's toast and the singing to Rocky. We joined in singing 'happy birthday' but were cut short by Frank. I wasn't sure why he did it: perhaps he was too angry with me for me to be allowed to sing, or perhaps he had more pressing issues he wanted to deal swiftly with.

As soon as Eddie's name was mentioned, the room's atmosphere became even colder, if it was at all possible. Columbia's piqued interest when he was mentioned roused deep sympathy within me for her, and then for Dr Scott when we realized the relation. And then, when we realized what had become of Eddie….

"_Eddie is rather a tender subject. Would anyone like another slice?"_

All of the guests dropped their cutlery at once – apart from Rocky who was obviously unaware that cannibalism was frowned upon – and Columbia excused herself, her screams of anguish soon piercing the silence which had engulfed the dining room once again.

As we all joined Dr Scott in song, it was like offering our musical condolences for the loss of Eddie. As we listened to the story of Eddie's life, we were all saddened by his untimely death. Of course, all of us apart from his killer: his additions to the song consisted of yawns and sarcastic phrases which were unnecessary and spiteful. At this moment, I hated Frank. It was if someone had smashed my rose-tinted glasses and showed me what a cruel, ruthless, heartless individual he could be. Of course, in the back of my mind I could still see the passionate, confident, caring lover she had lost her virginity to, but I was unsure at this point whether I could forgive him for everything he had done.

This feeling was only consolidated as he ripped the tablecloth from underneath our plates to reveal the mutilated corpse of Eddie Scott. Not only was it a callous thing to do, Frank took pleasure in doing it and in Dr Scott's pain. Without thought, I ran into Rocky's arms and he comforted me, shielding my eyes from the horror laid before us. Frank leapt at us, breaking us apart. I turned towards him, and felt his open palm connect with the right side of my face, causing me to stumble to the floor. There was a murderous look in his eyes; the same look as there had been when he had murdered Eddie, and that told me that I had to run.

I was in fear for my life as Frank pursued me, but it seemed that I had been mistaken concerning his intentions. He merely sang to me, but I think I would have preferred the physical punishment: his words were full of spite and venom as he showed me how little I meant to him, how non-sexual he found my form. I think my quite literal knee-jerk reaction into his groin signaled the end of our very short relationship: however, knowing Frank, he probably got off on that too.

One line from that song, however, made me rethink my anger.

"_It's something you'll get used to, a mental mindfuck can be nice!"_

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he was right. As Frank rubbed up against me once more, his hands slowly rocking my hips, I pushed him away but immediately wanted him back there. He still looked at me like he wanted me, but I suppose that was simply because he knew I wanted him. Our time there had certainly been a mind fuck, and I know now more than ever that it had been… nice. All of the lies and betrayal between me and Frank had been, in my opinion, worth it, and Frank knew that he had made me feel special, for one night at least.

And as Brad, with his feet glued to the floor, squared up to Frank to protect me, I realized where my real love lay. Frank had had his fun, with both of us, but in that moment I realized that Brad and I had forgiven each other because we knew we had something stronger, with more depth and meaning than Frank was capable of. We had learnt a simple lesson, in perspective and hindsight: love didn't mean sex, and sex didn't mean love. Just because something was fun didn't mean it was a sin, but it didn't mean it was right either.


	7. Frank's Final Song

_**Hey everyone! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, I really appreciate it. Sorry this took a while to upload, I've been working on other fanfics and another writing project so I've been quite busy! I hope you like this chapter, I'm not so sure about this one tbh. Please R&R and share with friends!**_

The floor show. Typical Frank: an indulgent spectacle, a performance for no-one in particular apart from those performing. But, we all played along, left our dignity at the door and let our hair down. I, myself, was relishing my new-found confidence and imagined the hall filled with strangers leering and coveting me, basking in my presence. I felt released from my former self and I wasn't afraid to embrace the new me, which is more than I can say for Brad. Brad stumbled in his heels and covered himself up at any opportunity and fought the sensations tingling all over his body, the music moving him in the provocative way he shied away from. But, eventually, he could hold back no longer.

I didn't even care that Brad wasn't looking at me in all my glory, as I performed in his production. It didn't even matter that Frank wasn't looking at me. All of us were staring out into the imaginary crowd holding our heads eyes and flirted with them instead. I had learned that lust didn't have to animal and obvious, and that it could be concealed and only hinted at through subtlety. It was surprisingly beautiful, and I felt that I finally understood why it was called the 'art' of seduction.

Frank gave us all a bit of the spotlight, which was the most surprising part of our display. It reflected how we could be individually beautiful but then return to move as one organism, as I would later think deeply about. Looking back, I realize that it all meant something much bigger: the song, the choreography was carefully put together as a way of Frank to express himself and pass on the lesson he had learnt at an early age on his home planet. At what at first I perceived to be a simplistic view about sex was actually part of an in depth knowledge of the complexity of what his lifestyle meant.

I analysed the floor show for many months after it had occurred, and I found that I could weave a very tangled web when trying to explain Frank's motivation and meaning. But, in the end, it was all very simple. We all had sang "rose tints my world and keeps me safe from my trouble and pain." When on that stage, I had felt like a different person: it was as if losing myself in Frank's world had temporarily shielded me from my own, including all of its problems. I had forgotten my impending wedding, petty arguments with friends, the imminent stress of leaving my parent's to live with Brad… all of that had disappeared.

At first, Frank's prolonged solo had actually provoked some jealousy, but the more I went over it in my head, the more I thought of what a good man Frank was. It wasn't just hogging the limelight, he was giving us a message, some advice. Yes, he sang of his own experience and his story, but he used it to inspire us. "Don't dream it, be it" was Frank's plea to us, in order for us to be truly happy and is the mantra I will live my life by in dedication to him.

And, the ending? A continuation of this message, I suppose. Being who you want to be and being self indulgent once in a while was Frank's formula for living life to the full. It seems too simple to actually work but look at Frank. He certainly seemed to live his life the full… and then some.

And then Magenta and Riff Raff entered, metaphorically ripping off my rose-tinted glasses, so-to-speak. Like deer in headlights, Frank, myself, Brad, Rocky and Columbia turned towards them. I immediately became very conscious of how little I was wearing and Brad's body language closed considerably. Frank, however, was wide eyed and happy to see them – I suppose Frank never really left the world we had been allowed to momentarily enter.

They told him that they were to return home, and, in true Frank style, he prepared to perform one final number before he left. At that moment, only Riff Raff knew that it really would be Frank's last song. I can honestly say that Frank's farewell to earth was the most I have ever been moved by song or music. The final side of Frank that was revealed was that similar to a homesick child; he laid his soul bare and was impassioned like I have never seen anyone before or since be. Someone torn between the draws of their home and the wonders of earth and the rest of the universe, pouring their heart out for the universe to hear. I wondered just how much Frank had seen on his travels, and what his home planet had been like. It pains me that, now, I'll never get to ask him.

It seems unlikely, but the realization that our hosts were of extra-terrestrial origins had not come as a surprise. It had been hinted at throughout our stay, and the more it was mentioned, the more likely and believable it seemed. It should have been an earth-shattering revelation which would change our outlook on life forever, but I suppose there are only so many of those moments the brain can process in such a short space of time. I only realized the next day that Dr Scott had been moving his legs during the show.

As Riff Raff confronted Frank, we were all taken aback: oh, how the tables had turned. However, despite all that Frank had done to us, even Brad stood up for him and we knew he didn't deserve the death he suffered. After Eddie had turned on him and Rocky had betrayed him for me, it seemed that Riff Raff had joined Frank's failed creations, but this souring relationship had fatal consequences.

The confidence, the swagger, the raised, snooty nose had disappeared and the once great Dr Frank N Furter had been replaced by something resembling a small woodland creature running scared from the hunt.

I can still see the fear in Frank's eyes as he tried desperately to escape the Riff Raff's laser. I can still hear the thud that his body made when it fell from the curtain. I can still hear Rocky's anguished cry for his master. I can still see both of their bodies floating in the swimming pool.


	8. The Denton Affair

_**Hey everyone, so sorry for another long delay in updating! Thanks for all the reviews and to everyone who has been reading. **_

_**WARNING: Since reading the ROTOQ script, I have decided to add a few more chapters after the previous one to include BRIEFLY some details from Shock Treatment and ROTOQ. Just incase you are unfamiliar with either of them, I though I'd give you a heads up.**_

_**Please continue to read and review. I hope you continue to enjoy this fic.**_

As we crawled away from where the house once stood, I tried to tell myself that none of it could have been real but the costume I found myself in and the pain in my chest wouldn't let me forget. The fact that we could have almost been killed by Riff Raff would sink in much, much later; now all we could feel was numbness. We had witnessed things never meant to be witnessed by anyone on Earth and behaved in such a shameful way in that house that, now we were no longer inside, the night air and public space made feel naked in my apparel and ashamed of what I had become. Happiness and pleasure were not as important as being part of our society. I decided then that what had transpired here would be a secret I would take to my grave, but I did not consider that I was not the only witness.

Without a word, Brad and I helped Dr Scott up – as his wheelchair had been mangled by the force of the house's departure – and began to walk towards the now somewhat useless gate at the edge of the vacant property. We tried to keep to the shadows and avoided the road as much as possible, but the rain from previous nights had made the grass impossible to walk on. I could not bring myself to imagine how we would explain ourselves if we were seen. I didn't have to imagine though.

About a mile into our journey, I looked down to see my shadow forming on the ground in front of me much clearer than before, caused by the unmistakable glow of car headlights behind us. There had been some blankets with Dr Scott's wheelchair but two had been burnt from the blast from the house and so there was only enough to wrap around Dr Scott in order for Brad to carry him. So, the police in the car saw everything.

The car screeched to a halt in front of us and 3 officers leapt out to our aid. They told us that our families had reported us missing and that they were beginning to fear the worst, which I think meant death but his expression suggested he found our current state much more worrying. I found it odd, at this point, that Brad had left me to do much of the talking. Actually, he hadn't said a word, and allowed the officers to usher us into the police car.

"Don't worry, Brad, everything's going to be alright…"

As I look back, I realize that the utterance of what had been, sort of, Brad's catchphrase as I had been the nervous and shy half of the couple was the beginning of our downfall. It began with this which grew into a complete role reversal and then… well, I'll talk about that later.

We arrived at the small town police station and the officers left us in the car while they went to announce our arrival to the front desk. I begged Brad not to tell them of our experience and for him to help me plan a cover story. Dr Scott begged me to do the opposite, as our story could help him prove to the Federal Bureau of Investigation that his research into aliens had not been a waste of time. But there was still hope; Dr Scott did not know everything which meant my dignity may remain in tact. Brad's uncharacteristically quiet and subdued voice reasoned with me – 'we have to tell them the truth, they're policemen…' – and I knew that, in his shaken state, Brad could not cope with upholding a lie.

If Dr Scott had not been with us that night, I fear Brad and myself would have been declared clinically insane, talking about transvestite aliens and houses that are spaceships… He assured the officers that what we were saying was 100% true and told them of his research into the very people were talking about. I'm sure they were uncertain to say the least but, as Dr Scott explained, you don't argue with someone with an FBI badge.

I wished they had said we were insane. At the time I wanted them to say we were because it made it all easier to forget, but, as I have mentioned before, I don't like regrets. Now, I think that saying we were mad would have been accurate.

In the immediate aftermath if what would become known as 'The Denton Affair', our lives returned, pretty much, to normal. Brad was still shaken and a little docile, but the lives we had were livable. Apart from the policemen who took our statements, our ordeal was still a secret to all of those whom we knew and, for a while, I felt as if my life would continue as it was meant to: happily.

But then, Brad's condition worsened. He became increasingly reluctant to socialize or even leave the house. Our marriage – yes, we had somehow managed to make it to the church – turned sour very quickly and even my parents began to worry if we would stay together. And this is how we ended up on Marriage Maze. Well, this was the pretence. I hated what a strangely familiar Cosmo and Nation had turned me into, filling me with pills and ego and draining me of my conscience and compassion. I had allowed myself to be torn away from Brad, again, when he was at his most vulnerable and be seduced by another man, again, who also happened to be Brad's brother.

But, we managed to escape unlike the rest of Denton. Brad and I did not stick around long enough to see if they ever left again: Denton now had one too many bad memories for us and so we scarpered. On his escape, Brad seemed renewed and loving again but I had once again drastically misread my own husband and his mental state. The conflict with his brother and another of my betrayals would prove too much for Brad to handle.


	9. Sex, Lies and an Area Code

_**Hey everyone! Thanks to everyone who keeps reading and reviewing. I'm really looking forward to feedback for this chapter especially, because for once I'm actually quite happy with what I've done! It's not long til the end now, and those of you who have read/heard ROTOQ know where this is going. How about letting me know your ideas about what the last of my chapters will entail as well as what you think of my work? Would be greatly appreciated! Hope you like it x**_

At first I thought that he was having an affair: the late nights, waking up to an empty bed, his anxiousness spiking and the unmistakable smell of a bar. Yes, I put on a brave face when he was around; part of me thought that his actions would have been justified since I had had two affairs, one of which being only a few hours we were engaged. He had learned to live with a few bad habits that I had picked up and forgiven my indiscretions, so I had to allow him to continue, right? I tried to; I really did, for I was also keeping a secret from him. Many, actually, but they soon came out – I wasn't good at covering my tracks.

Brad hated my drinking habits and, on more than one occasion, begged me to stop. It was like the old Brad had came back to protect me and care for me but, the ridiculous thing was, I kept on drinking. I suppose I knew that if I stopped that the old Brad would disappear again. Now that I say it, I know how naïve and childishly attention seeking it sounds, but I also know it shows how desperate our situation had become. In the end, I only managed to push Brad even further away and drinking to forget the Denton Affair gradually grew into forgetting our marital problems.

Once he knew that I drank, I didn't have to try to hide it, which extended our liquor cabinet's opening hours. He soon discovered the empty packets of cigarettes in the bin and my stash kept in said cabinet. These discoveries coincided with Brad's sudden urge to spend as much time away from me as possible. He had went from being terrified of the outside world to storming out into the car whenever we fought. He had managed to get a small job just after we moved at a shop just a street away which he seemed to manage, even on his off days. When he said he had decided to get a city job, I was so happy that I didn't notice his increased confidence… or the fact his new 'job' paid less than a corner shop. I suppose being drunk for the majority of the day does that to you.

Then I found myself spending most days alone. Although things weren't going great, I really missed having Brad to look after and argue with. My drinking and smoking wasn't helping our already dwindling bank balance, even though we never went out. I thought of looking for a job, perhaps Brad's old position in the shop, but no-one was going to employ a chain-smoking alcoholic, not even in this town. Even when Brad came home from a day's work at his 'new job', he would be called back late or say he was meeting work colleagues, which would inevitably lead to us fighting about his hours and then about everything else – his favourite retort was that I was quite happy using his hard-earned cash for my shameful vices.

So I decided that I would start to pay for them myself. I was apprehensive about my choice of career at first, but, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I could do something I loved, gain some independence and manage to avoid my broken home and broken husband. And that's why, basically, I decided to become a prostitute. I took what Frank had taught me so long ago and the dislike of Brad which had crept up and over me over time and converted into energy and skill for being a… creature of the night.

Although my experience with Frank had undoubtedly led me to this moment in my life, the alcohol slowly breaking down my body eventually allowed me to forget them. The first few times, I sometimes imagined that it was Frank I was with but, eventually, I managed to do it because I wanted to. I felt liberated and, for the first time in my life, completely in control. The money was average but I soon forgot my original motive to begin work and it no longer mattered. And neither did the fact that I was lucky if I saw Brad for more than an hour each day.

Brad never saw a penny of my money, but he soon became suspicious that I was no longer dipping into his wages yet still managed to increase my alcohol and tobacco intake. Of course, once Brad confronted me, I could no longer hide it from him. I decided to tell him about my line of work and, to my despair, he hardly reacted. I wished him to scream at me and tell me that I ought to be ashamed because, as we know, I like a forceful man and I need excitement. His eyes simply began to shine with the sheen of pre-tears and his face froze in a look of shame. Perhaps it was the shame I brought to him with my wicked deeds, but now I think this was only half true. Perhaps it was the shame he felt for keeping an equally shocking secret from his wife.

When he left that night, I didn't know it was the last time I would see Brad alive. But now that moment is engraved in my mind as the moment I set the wheels of his death in motion. All I knew at that moment was that my husband may never return as my husband, and that terrified me. I realized that I had been pushing him away just to see if he would come back, and I had pushed him too far. I thought I had pushed him into the arms of another woman, that that was where he was heading to when he left that night. But, I had to check where he said he had worked, just in case I had projected my own feelings and actions on to him to make our demise more bearable.

Turns out, I was wrong either way. After rifling through his possessions, I found some paperwork from his office. I looked at the name and address and grabbed the phone to dial their number. But there was something amiss. The number belonging to the office didn't have our area code… it was a Las Vegas area code. We lived about an hour outside of Vegas… I found the number in the phone book for the office and, as I suspected, they had no record of my husband even visiting the place. And, for the first time in months, I didn't reach for the bottle. I simply sat, cried, wondered how my life had ever come to this and waited for a miracle, for something that could never be: my husband to come home.


	10. Living On

_**Hey everyone, I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in so long, I've been really busy! This is the last chapter of this fanfic, so I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I've loved writing this, but I'm not sure that I have the time right now to start my next fanfic. Please subscribe/favourite if you liked this story so you can read my other stories.**_

There was a knock at the door. In my naivety, I made myself believe, as I headed to the door, that it was Brad. 'He must have forgotten his keys…' I opened the door and my false smile faded as I was greeted somberly by two police officers and I knew what they were here to tell me. Well, partly. They perched themselves on the edge of my sofa and declined the offer of some refreshments, neither of them looking as if they knew what to say to me.

I told them that I had guessed why they were here; I told them that they only had to nod if I was correct. They glanced at each other, then back at me and gave a curt nod. I smiled in gratitude as tears silently began to fall. I explained that I realized as soon as I saw them at my door what had happened, not that I just knew my husband was dead, as I saw the suspicion in their eyes. They seemed relieved by this, but still looked apprehensive.

"Would you like to know how your husband died?"

I nodded. I expected a car crash, or a fall down some stairs, or something… normal. Needless to say, I wasn't expecting what they went on to tell me.

"Were you aware of where your husband worked?" Hard to explain really… No, I didn't, as of this morning.

The next question I did not expect. "Do you know what a… erm, bottomless go-go dancer is?" I had to admit that I did not. Looking back, I don't know how the officers retained composure. Yes, they were delivering bad news, but fortunately they managed to hide the judgment in their eyes and were perfectly compassionate.

I see it every day. Every time I close my eyes, I see the trapeze swinging, my darling Brad perched on top, rousing the crowds with his cheesiest grin lighting up the seedy room. Then he is gone. He has plummeted the 30 feet and landed badly. The crowd gasps, some wondering if it is part of the act, most gasping from the excitement of watching his barely clad body twisting through the air and then sharply crumpling on impact. I see people gather around him, leering still at his body with shock, lust or both. Like the look in Frank's eyes as he murdered Eddie.

Sometimes I think about why Brad turned to this lifestyle and I immediately think of Frank. Sometimes I can imagine Brad triumphant above the crowd and I see the confidence I always wanted him to have - the confidence that I saw in Frank which pulled me away from him. Did he do it for me? Was he going to tell me in the hope that it could bring the spark back to our relationship? I guess I'll never know.

The officers offered their condolences and made their excuses to leave. I don't blame them. They had just had to tell a woman that her husband worked in a bottomless go-go dancing bar in Soho and died during his act of swinging on a trapeze. Surely that can't be in their training…

As I looked around the house and realized that the colour had drained from the room, from the world. At least before, we pretended that our marriage wasn't a sham, and that we were happy. I tried so hard to pretend that I actually started to believe, but all hope was lost now. I had lost my one true love and he was never coming back. Even my memories of him are tainted, thinking about his secret life and imagining him lying naked in front of strangers, motionless and vulnerable. Hypocritical, in my line of work, I know.

I can take some comfort in that Brad died doing what he loved. Isn't that what everyone wants? When you strip everything away, he was more like me than I ever realized. We both kept secrets; we both had flaws; we were both so busy chasing a thrill that we forgot how we used to thrill each other. I work hard to block out the bad memories – needless to say, the weekly drinking bills are escalating – and I choose to believe that, if he had returned home that night, then we would have forgiven each other for our flaws and moved on. Just as I discovered what a truly rich character my husband had become, he was gone. Everything was lost.

And this is where my story ends. When Brad died, I realized that he was my life, and he always had been. I still carry the guilt about what I put him through, but I realized a long time ago that regrets won't change the past. The memories of the Transylvanians faded in my memory, so much so that when an older, more disheveled looking Riff Raff included my hotel room in one of his journeys, it took my 3 days to think of his name and how I knew him. I knew he was linked in my mind to Frank, but even my memory of the illustrious doctor had blurred.

I'm still a prostitute and I now use the proceeds, among other things, to rent that same hotel room. But now, instead of lying down and thinking of Dr Furter, I think of Brad; my husband, my love, my life. Frank's gloved fingers have been replaced by Brad's bare knuckles, and the sultry British accent has been drowned out by Brad's sweet, American twang. His memory, the memory of us, lives on inside my head and on through my work.

It may seem wrong or twisted to you but, as you've probably realized, Brad and I were never normal. Before the Denton Affair, we lived in a bubble: complete innocence with no sense of what the world could really be like. We were then shown the other extreme, and I suppose it was too much to for us to deal with properly. Am I happy? Not really. Do I yearn for a normal life? Not at all. I've realized who I am and I have found myself… but what do you do when you realize you have reached your life's potential?

_**The end! I'm not too pleased with this ending as I wasn't sure about how to finish, but please review and let me know what you think! Thanks for sticking with me until the end, **_

_**Emily x**_


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